Lavi's Past
by OLDSaphSoul
Summary: SPOILER WARNING! Inspired by a line in chapter 122. One-shot centered on Lavi's past.


Hi Guys! Remember the One-shot I did of Lavi's past? It was a one-shot, but I think I've found a better way to write it. SPOILER ALERT! In this version, inspired by chapter 122 where Lavi says that the world was always arguing, I think I've come up with a new version of his past. Hopefully, this turns out better than my other one-shot. Note that this story begins in his past, not his present.

-Saph

* * *

"You son of a B$$#^! You were supposed to get it!"

"Get what? It's your son!"

"Oh? You think a child just magically pops outta my ass? You had a part in it too, you bas$%#$!"

"It's your responsibility to pick it up!"

"I was busy! I explicitly told you to pick it up today! I pick it up ever other damn day of the year!"

A young boy with red hair covers his ears as he listens to his parents fight. They are in the living room where everything has been smashed to bits. The little boy is standing by the door, on the other side. He knows better than to get between them. That's how he lost his right eye. His father decided to throw the vase on the coffee table. That was their fifth vase. The pieces littering the room are the remains of the fiftieth vase. Why do they bother buying one if it is just going to end up like that? Do they need to restock so there will be more to throw at the next fight?

His parents are always fighting. It doesn't matter what they are fighting about, they just fight. It's always over something stupid. It's like they don't know how to communicate with each other besides yelling.

All of the people outside are like that too. There's the teachers who get fed up and resort to yelling at the children for silence. There's the mother walking her child to school that screams at it to stop asking 'are we there yet?'.

For all of his years on this planet the boy has learned one thing and one thing only. People argue. It's like they can't live without it. His parents are a good example. If they don't yell at each other then they aren't talking to each other.

They never talk to him either. Father is always too busy and Mother is too ticked off at Father to bother with him.

The boy read about this sort of stuff in a book. He has always wondered why they bother living together if they hate each other so much. The book said that when two people get very drunk and end up with a child they have to get married. The boy found that strange. The "proper" version said something about "when two people love each other very, very much, they want proof of their love. That is where children come from. The two people live together and love the child and two becomes three.' This version said that there didn't need to be love. It was strange.

His only friends are books. He can use them to pretend he has a real family. The people in the books don't yell. There are no people in the books. He reads non-fiction so there can't be people yelling.

Ever since he found those books the boy has loved them. The person writing them wasn't bias and wouldn't yell. He was calm all the time, even in the face of such atrocities as the bloody French Revolution. The documentaries were all pretty calm about it.

The boy wants that. He wants to grow up to be like that. He doesn't want to feel anymore. He doesn't want to yell and he doesn't want to feel hurt when others yell.

* * *

One day, after school, the boy is walking home alone. His parents never pick him up and when they get home they start the fight again about whose turn it was to pick him up. They don't bother asking him. They don't even know that he exists, or they might as well not. He is just another thing for them to fight about. It wouldn't have mattered if he were an object or a living person; they'd still find something to yell about.

As he walks home he sees something that catches his attention. An old man is writing something down by the trees. Knowing that it won't matter if he gets home at all, the boy decides to talk to the man.

"Uh…um…w-what are you doing?" The boy asks.

The old man looks up and sees the red head with an eyepatch on his right eye.

"Hello. What are you doing here, boy?" The man asks in a kind voice.

"Uh…um…" the boy seems close to tears.

The boy has never talked to anyone before. He doesn't want to talk and end up yelling and he doesn't want to be yelled at. The teacher commented on that on the report card once. She called him 'meek'. Another one called him 'shy'. Then there was one of the other teachers, this one a man, that called him 'a child with serious social issues'.

"I-I was wondering…w-what are you doing here?" The boy asks in a rush.

The old man is intrigued. He lets the boy sit beside him. He shows him the records he is reviewing.

"You see, I record history." The man begins.

The boy's eyes light up when he realizes what all of the papers are.

"Y-You're one of those people that don't yell! You write down things that happen without yelling or taking sides! Y-You're like those people that wrote about the French revolution and-and…and about history!"

The boy is no longer meek. He is excited. The man is surprised. He never would have thought a child would be interested in history. They all call it boring, those young whippersnappers!

The boy scans through the pages with a smile on his face. He looks happy.

After a while the boy stands up excitedly.

"Y-You have to take me with you!" He chirps.

The old man's eyes widen.

"E-Excuse me?"

"You're one of those people that don't yell. You're what I want to be when I get old! I want to write things down too! I want to be a person who doesn't yell!"

The old man stares at the child. He understands what the child is saying but such a thing is impossible. The boy can't be older than seven for crying out loud! He can't just take a child and train him to be the next bookman at that age! Besides, this child must have a family! There are people who would miss him! He can't just take him away! Turning him into a bookman would destroy him! It would destroy any chance of him ever living a normal life! The old man knows he needs a successor, but he can't bring himself to do it. Anyone that trains to be a Bookman is pretty much wiped away from history. They record the happenings of other people, not themselves.

This boy in front of him has so much potential. The old man can't take the future away from him.

"I can't, son. Go back home. Go back and be happy with your parents." The old man tells him.

The boy shakes his head.

"Everyone there is always yelling. I don't want to be there. I don't want to yell and I don't want to hear people yell either!" He huffs, stamping his foot.

The old man sighs. He can't make the boy go home. Maybe if he ignores him the boy will grow tired and leave him alone. After all, kids have short attention spans.

For the next three days the old man goes about his business. He watches as the boy follows his every move for those three days. He doesn't go to school, and he doesn't go home. When the boy does sleep, the old man can't bring himself to leave him behind. The boy wouldn't know how to get home. When the boy sleeps, the old man watches him. Something about this boy intrigues him. What would possess the child to make him be so determined? Most children lose interest after five minutes.

* * *

Finally, on the fifth day, the old man decides to stop. He confronts the boy.

"Alright. You've proved that you're an annoying, persistent pain in my side. Now, why are you following me?" He growls.

The boy just glares at him.

"I'll keep it up until you take me with you!" He declares.

The old man feels his jaw drop. The boy still remembers and is still determined about that?

"Go home! The world is no place for a youngster like you. Go back and have dinner with your family!" He orders.

"No!" The boy yells.

This surprises the old man. This boy hates yelling, yet he does it.

"There is no dinner at my house! Even if there is, it just ends up on the floor anyway! If not, it's in mother's hair!" He screeches.

What kind of life did this boy come from? The old man sighs.

"Fine, I'll take you home."

"No!" The boy huffs.

"Tell me where you live and I'll take you there."

"No!"

The old man sighs. He'll never get any work done with this child tagging along.

"How about this? You take me to your home, and if you parents let you, I'll take you with me." He offers.

The boy's face lights up and he nods. The old man smiles. He has no intention of carrying out the promise. Besides, what sort of person in their right mind would let their child go off with a complete stranger?

He expects the boy to just tell him an address or start crying because he doesn't know how to get home. Instead, he begins walking. He retraces all the steps from the first day. The old man is surprised. The boy has a good memory.

Soon, they find themselves in front of a relatively normal looking house. The boy smirks at him and his body-language tells him to try to enter.

The old man steps forward. He knocks and waits for an answer.

He hears things crashing and loud voices yelling at each other from inside.

"You get it!"

"No! You get it! I hate people that sell things!"

"You get it! You bought this damn house!"

"Yeah? And you're living in it!"

"If you hate me so much, I'll move out!"

"Oh! Why haven't you?"

The door opens.

"What do you want?"

It is a woman, no doubt the boy's mother.

"I-um…" the old man begins.

This is the first time he has been rendered speechless. He never expected it to go this far.

"I want to go with this man." The boy speaks up.

"Fine. Do whatever you want!" The woman yells, flipping her hand and shutting the door without even looking at the boy.

The boy grins up at the man. The man sighs. A promise is a promise. Besides, he can't leave the boy in a place like this.

"Alright. Let's go." He calls as he walks off.

The boy skips along as he follows. That was how Old Man Panda got his successor.

The end.

* * *

I know, it's pretty long for a piece of crap writing, right? I know the ending sucked, but I really couldn't think. Hopefully, someone made it to end of this fic and will leave a review. I really want to know if I did okay. I'm out of practice with writing so I know this is pretty bad. Still, hopefully someone liked it.

-Saph


End file.
